an everlasting truth
by mr-raindrops
Summary: No one is fond of saying goodbyes. (kikuro-ish drabble)


an everlasting truth

* * *

i.

He came like a star dropping from the sky: appearing swift and abrupt and then fading, just as promptly; an overlooked sweep of wind on skin, cold fingers and transient lines of smiles, of frowns.

The only basketball Kise had known was Aominecchi's, lithe and strong and unrelenting; a well-established rhythm following orbits and paths behind and around his legs, like those were the only places in space the basketball was ever meant to be. And then, basketball was also Kurokocchi, keen and resolute and ever resilient, multitudes of thoughts behind every movement, shadows hidden in the light.

Kise spent countless hours watching with bubbling admiration the two of them on court, that seemingly choreographed harmony, a love for basketball that drew the line for the ball to travel.

One could not exist without the other - and Kise was not neither. (He'd liked to think that he was both, but that wasn't quite right, either.)

The result from that, then, was that Kise would not and would never be able to copy either of them, be like either of them. There is no such thing as perfect, after all.

ii.

Losing against Aominecchi was always disappointing, in many ways. But it was never quite as painful as how it felt to have his breath catch in his throat in a choking hold, to hope until it aches to hope for a chance to make his own reality, where Kurokocchi would never have to look at Aominecchi with such jaded despair in his eyes.

iii.

Something Kise had always known, and over time accepted, was that Kurokocchi would never look at him the same way he does Aominecchi. There is, however, many shared sentiments between the two of them, many of which do not exist between Kurokocchi and Aominecchi.

Kurokocchi was easier to understand, after he'd figured those out.

iv.

Over the years, Teikou had become something of an abstraction.

Teikou is not a school. Teikou is not basketball.

To Kise, it is a memory, a moment in time. And he still sees it, sees Teikou in the first blossoms in spring, in early mornings on the clock, in sweet blue popsicles, in the fixed depth of Kurokocchi's gaze.

He wonders if it's too far reached to think that, maybe, Kurokocchi sees it in him, too.

v.

There was always a certain loneliness in the expanse that stretched before him, steps away from days of being soaked in a golden youth and a glorious simplicity.

He knew, with all the sureness in his heart, that this fear dwelled within Kurokocchi as well. And it was with this weight on his mind that he could smile and say, "how are you today?" with the knowledge that nothing at all in the world could hold him back, and receive in return the response, "I'm good, Kise-kun, how are you?" with none of the worn sorrow of their younger days.

vi.

He's chased many dreams, both realized and broken, but they will always remain in the little things, and they will be there to stay.

vii.

Sometimes Kise thinks that it's less Teikou that makes him miss middle school than the idea of being nostalgic and simply missing something and that's why he's all the more enthusiastic to let such a concept swathe him in its melancholy. But then, it isn't the case with Kaijou, so maybe it's the fact that happiness, for all of them, could have been so easily preserved.

Sometimes he wishes that it would have lasted, but then, it's one of those things that was only meant to be fleeting. It's one of those things that has an expiration date of sorts, a bit like the delicate green tea leaves sitting in the tin box that someone had gifted him for New Year's; it would have been steeped in his blood for far too long, to the point of bitterness, diluted with too many possibilities.

It's on quiet train rides home from work that he thinks, again, of the little things that might have changed everything. But Teikou is a part of him now, a part he does not find misgivings in. And, maybe, that's just the way things are supposed to be.

* * *

A/N: since i'm a sentimental lil shit having a crisis over knb ending, i had to write this or i will be crying internally for a long time

over the last few years it has come to claim a special place in my heart. i started this series during the last year of middle school, held onto it through first year of high school, which was a pretty unstable year for me idk but yeah it was kind of horrid knb was definitely a plus AND SO MANY GREAT PEOPLE FROM THE FANDOM CRies

i think what makes me feel so sad about kurobas ending is that it feels as if i've been left behind to continue to grow and chase after my own unrealized dreams while this series is at a standstill, at that glorious time of having just fulfilled a dream sO YEA i'm making myself confused so. (KUROko's sMILe AND TH E MIRAGEN PIC IN HIS LOCKER THOUGH *CLUTCHES HEART*)

thanks for reading, and oN ANOTHER NOTE IDK WILL WE EVER SURVIVE ANIMATED TEIKOU ARC


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